An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/3
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Kinkade/Lance (Voltron)
Characters: Lance (Voltron), Kinkade (Voltron)
Additional Tags: Rivals to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Falling In Love, will i ever stop acquiring rarepairs, presumably no, but you can't give me two sharpshooters and not expect me to ship them, POV Alternating, if you know me you know this'll end with fluff, now featuring some whump, and some platonic klance
Summary:
Lance gets a second opinion; Ryan gets a second chance.
He could joke all he wanted how he’d unknowingly let a Siren in his bed, let alone his ship. But he hadn’t told him to leave either. Ryan was pretty and wicked, and looking every bit the danger his Mama had warned him about. It was one reason she’d been so adamant against him going out there with no one but him, the sea, and his second hand ship. He had known better than to take any favors from a Siren, but he’d save him, after all. Drawn a harpoon from his tail, patched him up, fed him, and been at his mercy.
Lance had always been a sucker for a pretty face.
The rush of waves and want running through his veins, singing under his skin as they moved together. Bodies melting against each other and Lance gasping for air like Ryan had dragged him into the depths and not into a kiss. Minutes, hours, Lance didn't know. The moment he’d plopped down on Lance’s lap, nestled himself comfy, Lance had been lost.
(Half-truth. Lance had been lost long since Ryan had rolled into his life, smelling of sweet smelling wine and bad decisions.)
The way his hands branded across Lance’s hips, thumbing circles to the bone.Ryan’s dragging nails, painting red constellations to Lance’s skin. He’d grown legs where his tail-fin had been. Used them to frame Lance’s hips like they’d been made to be slotted there all along. Like he’d been meant to be with Lance all along. A piece Lance had been yearning for without ever knowing it.
Lance’s mind was hazy, tunneled on nothing but the gold of Ryan’s eyes and the sickle curve of his smile. Lance hooked his fingers tighter together at the back of Ryan’s waist, drawing him closer and closer still. Distantly, a warning bell went off in his head.
“Ryan,” Lance sighed. “More.”
Ryan kissed the bow of Lance’s lips. He drew back, smiling with sharp teeth. “Anything you wish.
Wrong, lance doesnt have a love triangle cause he is in a healthy polyamorous relationship with kinkade and keith even though kinkade and keith arent dating they r still v good friends and support lance fully.
hhmmm kinkade and keith do push ups competition to impress the boyfriend, Lance, who’s sweating a lot bc they’re really really hot
in general they make lance sweat a lot bc they hold a lot of power and are really nice and fun and he loves them a lot
also they buy all kind of dumb shit and lowkey try to one up the other in terms of gifts and sweets but lance doesn’t even realise
the highest score rn is Kinkade and his 230$ plushie of a blue lion handmade by three different tailors
also they’re also v good friends and go regularly for a run together
the last one to get to Lance’s house showers second so they usually sprint really really really fast and Lance just has two completely wasted dudes knocking on his door after that
Lance and Ryan take a moment together, as the Earth rebuilds itself, and life continues on.
ao3
-
It had taken the better part of the day, but Lance had finally finished cleaning the majority of the room he’d been assigned to.
The floor was clean, now, chairs neatly packed and stacked to the sides. The countertops, what remained, wiped down and in need of a little rebuilding. At the center, Lance leaned his palms, one over the other, and cushioned his chin on top of his broom handle and smiled a little wistfully. He knew this place. He’d come here with Marco, Luis, and Veronica as kids.
His grandparents had come here a lot when they’d packed their family up and moved. They’d come here, swaying to music on the dance floor Lance was roving his eyes over, picturing the way his grandparents must have twirled each other. He could remember joining hands with his siblings, forming a circle, and pulling at each other until they got dizzy and fell, laughing and laughing.
It seemed as good as any place to help with rebuilding, big and quiet, and close to his heart. The destruction he’d walked into had pulled something nasty in Lance’s gut. It had taken a little searching, but Lance had found the old place again, under the mess, and had lovingly raised it with his hands. Ironic considering the way he’d gripped at Red’s control, his bayard not that long ago.
It would have probably gone faster with more hands, but Lance had wanted to be alone. Ever since he’d come back, it’d been hard to find a moment to breathe. He had missed his family like crazy, but there were times, after being surrounded by his comrades for as long as he had, he had gotten used to enjoying quiet moments alone.
He couldn’t help a snort at that.
To think, a couple months - years? - back, he would have gone crazy at the thought of being alone for too long, always used to someone in his space at all times. His families hands and voices pulling at him, the hum of ever present noise and movement all around him. He could sleep through just about everything, back then. Came with the perks of a naturally lively household.
Now, though, Lance enjoyed the quiet moments. He knew it confused his family. He’d changed so much, and he wasn’t sure how much of his old self had even remained. Enough to fall back into step the moment he’d dropped his bags in his old rooms when the hospitals had released him, and had moved around in perfect tandem with his mother in the kitchen, albeit a little creakily on his prosthetics. Sometimes, not so much. When he got too quiet at the dinner table, tucked away alone at times, palms itching for his bayard.
A door creaked open and slowly creaked back shut. In the quiet, a pair of boots echoed on the floors; Lance looked over his shoulder. His brows jumped to his hairline, though his lips quirked into a grin not that long after. A familiar pair of lips softly grinned back. Kinkade. Ryan, Lance affectionately thought.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Lance greeted.
Kinkade stopped a short ways away, arms crossing. He looked around, dark eyes appraising Lance’s handiwork, giving it a thoughtful hum. Lance couldn’t help the way his grin got bigger.
“Not bad,” Kinkade said. “Kogane joked that you’d end up getting fed up and take a nap halfway through.”
Lance scoffed, laughing a little. Keith wasn’t wrong. Halfway through he had gotten tired and dozed accidentally in one of the ratty couches. He’d snored too loud and woken himself up, jumping back into action. But Keith didn’t need to know that. When he saw Keith later, though, he knew his friend would be able to tell instantly, and part of him was eager for the chance to playfully argue about it.
“Keith also thinks green ketchup is good,” Lance teased.
Kinkade shook his head, playfully rolling his eyes. Lance couldn’t even begin to tell when they’d gotten so comfortable with each other. One moment they’d been awkward mission buddies, and the next Kinkade was zeroing Lance out in a crowd, eagle eyes sharp, in only a fellow sharpshooter should be. They’d gravitate towards each other, Lance a little more obviously, and Kinkade, seemingly smooth in a way that made it seem like he was just circling his way around and had, as always, just ended up next to Lance. A brush of hands became pinkies intertwined, had become palms pressed together, and ducked heads and soft words murmured low and secret.
Like he’d come to do, Kinkade reached out for one of Lance’s hands, then took the other. The broom clattered to the floor loudly, but Lance was too busy smiling and being pulled in towards the other boy’s body to bother to react. Kinkade pressed a kiss to his knuckles, shyly looking away, as always Lance gleefully thought, as Lance returned the favor. It had become something of a thing between whatever was developing between them, and Lance was never going to give it up.
“Hey, RyRy, did you know this used be a prime dancing spot?” Lance asked.
Kinkade quirked a brow. “Oh yeah?”
“Yup,” Lance popped the p. He hooked his arms loosely around Kinkade’s shoulders. “My grandparents came here, and my parents came here, just to cut a rug. Even Marco brought his wife here when they were dating. Got a bit of McClain family charm weaved in, ya know?”
Kinkade lazily cupped his hands together at the small of Lance’s back, bracketing Lance’s hips between them. Gently, he shifting Lance into a sway, teeth peeking out in a teasing grin as Lance took a step back, excited when Kinkade naturally followed. His prosthetic still felt weird, foreign against his body. If he stumbled a bit, Kinkade would shift, hands sliding to his hips almost naturally, until Lance had rebalanced, then draped his arms loosely again. For every step, forward or back, they swayed, slow and easy and in sync.
“Bit of a mess now, though,” Kinkade mused. “Never been here, to be honest. Make sure you show me when it’s all fixed up.”
Lance tapped at the back of his neck, waggling his eyebrows when Kinkade shook his head, bending down to press their foreheads together.
“You’ll be the first person I tell the minute it’s all ready to go,” Lance said.
Kinkade nodded. “Good.”
Lance tucked his head under Kinkade’s chin, pressing his face into the curve of his neck, humming out an gentle tune. There was still a lot of cleaning left to do, other rooms to salvage, but it could wait a little while longer. They could stay here and dance a little while more.
-
AN: AU-ish. Written to Billie Holiday’s “I'll Be Seeing You”. Its kind of canon-y, written with a bit of “post ww2-ish sweethearts” as the inspo for this. Idk how to explain. But Lance loses his legs. He’s still learning to walk with it. Ngl it’s really fake deep LOL. I can’t remember the post, but someone mentioned that only Lance (and I imagine his family) call Kinkade Ryan. While Lance used a bunch of different variations. RyRy is my favorite.
Tbh, this wouldn’t be a bad Adashi AU, either.
Should I post this on AO3? Would anyone want that?
lance/kinkade / mutual pining / rivals to lovers / 1264 words / 2 part ongoing
“Twenty-six” is not a greeting by any standards, but it’s the first thing out of McClain’s mouth upon seeing him at the rendezvous point. Ryan watches his rifle dematerialize in his hands until it becomes a short, U-shaped handle. A ‘bayard’, he’d called it several weeks ago at the shooting range. It’s about as cool an alien weapon as you can get, it seems, materializing from nothing into a gun or sniper rifle at McClain’s beck and call.
He shouldn’t have started counting the shots. That’s what spoke this rivalry into existence.
(Or; what begins as a kind of competition between Lance and Kinkade develops into a sort of friendship. For now, at least.)
mutual pining progresses to mutual attraction, and lance is throwing out his cocky, cheesy flirts left and right. kinkade is eating it right up, but of course he wont make it so obvious, he wont make it so easy. he is in this for the long con
his game is just sliding in these casual lines, romantic little compliments and LIGHTNING quick comebacks to flirting, when hes interested, and OKAY. lance is NOT prepared! he has been laying it on for a while now, more and more by the day, in true lance fashion. he is on a ROLL one day when theyre having a shoot-off or something to kill time when kinkade fires some smooth line right back at him
lance is caught totally off guard, and of course no one heard. they never seem to. kinkade can be chatty, and flirty, and oh-so-clever with that quirk of a smile and that amused flash in those hazel eyes. and no one knows!
but lance knows, and his face is cherry red as he realizes he is actually speechless, even if its just for a second
